


The Malaria Visions

by galfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Smut, if you can call him a dude, medicine induced hallucinations, ned is a cool dude, no really there's a lot of sex in here, the non-con isn't really non-con, the warning is there either way, you will see what I mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:19:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2242182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galfoy/pseuds/galfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione has a series of vivid dreams about Draco Malfoy after taking anti-malarial medication. Can she reconcile the real Draco with the one she sees when she sleeps?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowgall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowgall/gifts).



> I wrote this after a friend told me about some of the weird shit he dreamed about after taking anti-malarials. It's still one of the most fun stories I've had the pleasure of writing. (Also, I wrote in the character of Ned after a commenter described her experience taking the same drugs... Thanks again Mrs. Trax!)

"You're going where?"

"Malawi."

Hermione's Muggle doctor smiled pleasantly at her, but tilted her head slightly to the left, indicating her confusion.

"That's quite a difference from the last time we talked. I think you had mentioned perhaps making a short trip to Ireland, no?"

"Yes, well, things have changed. I need a change of scenery. A big change of scenery."

Hermione swung her legs awkwardly from the hospital table on which she sat. A change of scenery was putting it mildly. What she needed was a new life, but since that wasn't terribly likely to happen, Malawi would have to do. It was really, really far away from everything she was used to, and that was fine by her. Everything she was used to was in the process of falling apart.

"Malawi is a fascinating place," her doctor said, scribbling something down on her clipboard. "I've done some work with charities in the region. You'll have an amazing time, I'm sure. I imagine you've looked into the different tours you can do?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely. The wildlife reserves, the safaris, the cycling trips…. I'm sure I'll be kept very busy."  _And I won't have any time to think about Ron_ , she finished silently.  _I will keep myself so busy that I won't be able to sit around feeling sorry for myself_.

 _I won't think about how he moved out last week_.

 _I won't think about his new girlfriend_.

 _I won't think about how long it's been since we had sex_.

"And will your boyfriend be joining you?"

Hermione's face fell. "Uh, we broke up."

A look of understanding crept across her doctor's face. "I see. Well, this will certainly take your mind off things. You'll need to get quite a few vaccines I'm afraid, and since it's a malaria zone, you'll need to take this." She handed Hermione a box of pills, and Hermione inspected the packaging with a frown.

"Mefloquine?"

"Effective, easy to take, and most importantly, will keep you from getting sick. Malaria is no joking matter. You say you leave in two weeks?"

Hermione nodded.

"Good thing you came to see me when you did. Take one pill per day until you leave – you need to have your body ready to protect itself by the time you go. You're not to skip a single dose, understand?"

"Of course," Hermione said. "Thank you."

"Have a good time, dear," said her doctor, smiling. "Sometimes getting away is the best cure for a broken heart."

Hermione's cheeks reddened and she fumbled with the box of pills, stuffing them into her purse. Even if it was true, she didn't particularly want to talk about it.

"Right. Thanks."

"Oh, and I should mention… This particular medicine has a rather odd side effect."

"Which is?"

"Strange, vivid dreams," her doctor said with a friendly smile. "Last time I had to take it I dreamt I was flying on an elephant through giant rings of donuts, and that was just the first night."

"Um…"

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Just know that it's completely normal."

As she left the room, Hermione could have sworn she heard her doctor mutter "don't even get me started on the dreams where I was swimming in a bathtub of rum, armed only with a toothbrush and a stick of rhubarb."

Hermione inspected the box of pills again. So plain looking. How much damage could they do, really? Dreams were such harmless things.

* * *

The door to her flat clicked shut behind her, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. It was amazing how empty the place looked without Ron's stuff.

The articles he had framed were taken off the walls. His books, although nowhere near the amount she had, still left an empty shelf in the middle of the bookcase. His coats, boots, broom, smelly socks, dishes, rumpled clothing, toiletry bottles, towels on the floor… All gone. Despite having nagged him for years about those very things, she suddenly missed them  _fiercely_.

A bowl of cold cereal and a halfhearted attempt to read a book left her feeling miserable, so she forced down the chalky pill with a glass of water and crawled into bed.

Malawi couldn't come fast enough. Gods, if she could, she would leave tomorrow. Unfortunately, the international portkey would only be cleared for use in two weeks time, and besides, she needed to get her things in order before running away with her tail between her legs. Work was busy, her files needed to be closed, and of course, Ron still had a few things at the flat he would be coming to get before she left for vacation.

Two weeks. It felt like a lifetime.

Hermione drifted off to sleep, hoping she would dream of something interesting. Even an elephant jumping through donut hoops would be better than this nightmare.

* * *

Something was wrong. She couldn't see anything. Why was she blindfolded? Hermione tried to move her hands.

They were tied together above her head. She tugged at them, hearing only the clinking of chains above her.

 _What. The. Fuck_.

"Hello?" she called out, panicked. "Can someone help me?"

"Depends what you mean by help," someone murmured into her ear, hot breath ghosting onto her neck from behind. Yelping with surprise, she jerked away from the voice.

"I mean help free my hands and take the blindfold off," she stammered nervously, unsure about the intentions of whomever was hovering behind her. She heard him walk slowly around her body until he was right in front of her, and then felt him lean in until his lips were tickling her neck, causing her to recoil in response. Where the fuck did this stranger get off -

"Well Granger, I can help you with one of those things."

Her stomach dropped and she stiffened. That voice. She knew that voice.

"But I'm afraid I can't help you with the other."

The blindfold was pulled down suddenly, leaving her squinting in the dull light. A pair of grey eyes bored into her own, paired with a smirk she knew all too well. Her captor was wearing a black suit with a black dress shirt and a red tie. It was a very formal look considering she appeared to be locked in a dungeon.

His formal attire only made her more nervous. What was he playing at?

"Malfoy!" she seethed. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but I demand that you – "

"Ah ah ah, my dear Granger," he tutted, wagging his finger at her. His hair was parted at the side, hanging slightly in his eyes. "I think you misunderstand. You don't get to demand anything. In fact…"

Her eyes widened as he undid his tie with deliberate slowness, toying with it as his long fingers twisted the fabric around his wrist, snapping it to show its strength. He looked at the tie thoughtfully before returning his eyes to her face.

"In fact," he repeated, running his finger over her cheek, "you don't get to say much of anything."

Before she could respond, Draco stuffed the tie into her mouth, gagging her and stepping behind her once more, out of her line of sight. She winced as he tightened the fabric, whimpering with fear and surprise. Whines and muted cries made their way up her throat as he finished the knot.

"That's not to say you can't make any noise, however. I actually expect to hear a great deal of noise from you tonight."

Her brow furrowed with confusion until she felt his hands reach around her waist and begin to undo the button of her jeans. With a muffled cry she tried to pull away, but felt her restraints tighten the more she moved. Panic. Panic. What the fuck was happening?

"Now now Granger," he purred into her ear. "Don't be a bad girl."

Hermione's breathing skyrocketed as she felt him unzip her fly, and she yelled in protest as he tugged down her jeans to her knees, leaving only her knickers on. His strong hands traveled slowly up her thighs, over her hips, and then to her horror, under her shirt towards her breasts.

"I know you've been feeling stressed lately," he said, nipping her ear and causing her to jump. "I'm going to help you release that stress. This is a favour, Granger. Try not to be ungrateful."

In one quick move, his hands slipped under her bra and cupped her breasts, a low groan rumbling in his mouth. She felt his teeth sink into her neck as his fingers trailed over her nipples, tugging and pinching until she was sore. Another whimper escaped her. There was no getting out of this, was there?

Seemingly unmoved by her humiliation, he reached down to the hem of her shirt and dragged it up her body, taking her bra with it, until her breasts were completely exposed.

 _Oh my God_ , she thought, flushed with embarrassment and horror, squeezing her eyes shut.  _I'm going to die_.

"Don't be scared, Granger," he whispered into her ear before biting her shoulder, lighter than before but hard enough to leave marks, she was sure. "I'm going to make you feel better."

His fingers trailed lightly over her stomach.

"Much…"

They slipped under the waistband of her knickers.

"Much…"

They traveled over her triangle of hair and slid, slowly, purposefully, between her lower lips.

"Better."

His fingers were inside of her. She arched her back and tried to scream, but the muffled sound coming out of her was more like a jumbled oath. Leaning into her as he went deeper, she felt his length pressing against her arse, hard and long.

"You've been so tense lately," he continued, pumping two fingers in and out of her, encountering no resistance other than her squirming because, to her great confusion, she was already wet. "It's not good for your health, you know. Causes more problems than I care to list. You should know better, Granger. I worry."

His free hand tugged her kickers down to join her jeans, and he switched his technique, bringing one hand through her legs from behind to bury his fingers inside of her, and bringing the other around the front to toy with her clit.

Hermione's eyes began to roll back in her head, and she felt her body go slightly limp.

"I know," he purred. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

There was no way she was going to admit that he was right… But  _sweetholyfuck_.

Two fingers worked her cunt persistently, which was now undeniably soaked with arousal, while the fingers on the other hand slid back and forth across her clit, teasing, rubbing, teasing some more. There was a rhythm –  _pump in and out, tease_  –  _pump in and out, tease_  – and eventually -  _pump tease pump tease pump tease_  – and finally -  _pumppumppumppump_ ….

Hermione moaned, unable to keep it in any longer. This was wrong. This was humiliating.

And if he kept going, she was going to fucking explode.

"So I've been thinking, Granger," he said, conversationally as he went back to teasing her clit with irritating slowness. "You seem tightly wound, but I'm willing to bet there's quite an animal inside of you."

Her head was tipped back against his collarbone, and she gurgled something in response as the wet sounds from his fingers echoed around the dark chamber. Draco Malfoy was not supposed to be touching her like this. They worked together in the Magical Law office at the Ministry. They were cordial with one another, and had been for several years. They chatted often, being two of few in the office who spoke sarcasm fluently. As such, they managed to get along without actually being friends. He was handsome, yes, but she had barely spared him a thought when she was with Ron.

Now Ron was gone.

Draco Malfoy was not supposed to be touching her like this.

 _Pump tease pump tease pump pump pump_ ….

"I'd like to bring that animal out," he said, pressing his length against her a little harder.

She moaned again.  _Please don't stop_.

"I'd like to hear you growl."

Quite suddenly, he pulled his fingers out, and smacked her pussy with his flat hand. She cried, her thighs shaking with unexpected pleasure as her clit hummed happily in response.

 _What what what what what_ , she thought, incoherently.  _Why do I like this? What's happening to me?_

"I've been thinking," he said as he smacked her again, her hips bucking forward, his tongue licking from her neck over her jaw and all the way to her temple. "I've been thinking that I want to hear you roar, Granger."

There was a clicking sound. Hermione's hands were free, and dropped abruptly to her sides.

Before she could register her surprise, Draco bent her over and pulled the gag out of her mouth, leaning over and kissing her temple.

"Roar for me," he murmured, placing his tip at her entrance.

As he slid his cock inside of her, she granted his wish.

* * *

Hermione stared at the contract in front of her. She had re-read it five times, and still nothing made sense.

Best to try again.

 _The party in question must adhere to the basic principles of the agreement, whilst consenting to undertake all projects connected to their role as a contractor with or without the guarantee of additional remuneration, with any sub-contracting taken on as a non-billable expense_.

"What?" she said out loud. "That can't be right."

"Talking to yourself again, Granger?"

Hermione froze, looking up from her work slowly, knowing with frightening surety who was currently standing in front of her desk. It was the same person who had haunted her dreams the night before, the same person who had fucked her into submission while she begged for more, eventually emptying himself inside of her as she shook from her own climax. The dream was so vivid that she had jolted awake with slippery thighs. It felt real. It felt so real she had taken hours to calm down, to talk herself out of her panic at actually having  _enjoyed_  whatever it was he did to her. At having come  _so hard_. At having wanted more... At still wanting more.

She never got back to sleep though, and came into work three hours early. She was only awake now because she had eaten two energy bars and drank five cups of tea.

It was him, except this time she wasn't dreaming. This was real life. He didn't chain her up and fuck her speechless in real life… Right?

"People will start to think you're a bit strange, you know," he smirked.

Ah yes, the invite to banter. Banter was normal for them. They teased each other lightly, never getting too friendly, but never with any real malice, either. The Draco Malfoy she had gotten to know through work was sarcastic, a bit funny, and moderately polite. Now would be the time a normal Hermione Granger would reply with a good-natured zinger.

Instead, she blinked, her eyes focusing on his tie.

It was red.

"Um," she said.

He frowned. "Is that all you've got?" he complained. "I've come to expect a little more than that, Granger."

She stared at his lips, and then licked her own uncomfortably.

"Sorry," she said, hoarsely, throwing in an awkward chuckle as she pushed away the memory of his fingers inside of her. Of him bending her over. Of the sounds she had made when he filled her up. "Didn't sleep well last night. Not on the ball, I'm afraid."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I suppose you get a pass. Here's the document you wanted yesterday."

"Thanks," she said, weakly.

"No problem. How's the McKenzie contract going?"

"Uh, pretty shite, to be honest. I can't tell if it's badly written or if I'm just too tired to make sense of it."

"I can take it off your hands, if you want."

She thought briefly about his hands. Of what they had done to her. Well, not his hands exactly, but what her subconscious apparently thought his hands might feel like if they were jerking her off.

"I would really appreciate that, Malfoy."

He shrugged and leaned forward, scooping the papers off her desk. "Not a problem. You took that bloody Brinks file from me last month when I was ready to set the thing on fire."

"That was no big deal… I was really familiar with the case," she said. He was smoothing out his tie. He really did have lovely fingers.

 _Goddamnit_ , she had to stop thinking about that dream. How did something so completely unbelievable manage to feel like it had really happened? Her pulse was speeding up just by looking at him.

"Well, this makes us even," he smirked. "I'll bring the contract by when I'm done with it. See you 'round, Granger."

She watched him leave and then crossed her legs tightly. Her knickers were ruined.

Two weeks of this? Really?

* * *

Hermione scooped the cold cereal into her mouth, chewing slowly. The bottle of pills sat in front of her. She glared at them.

"You ruined my day, you know," she said out loud, well aware that she should probably not trying engage her medication in conversation, but not caring enough to stop. "I was too distracted to work."

The pills said nothing.

"I'm not interested in him, by the way. I mean, he's grown up to be very attractive, granted, but there's too much history there. Plus we work together. We can't possibly be involved."

Silence from the pills.

"It's not like he'd be interested in me anyway."

Dead air.

"Ron was very gentle in bed. He was… He was nothing like that. Besides, Ron only moved out last week." She decided not to add that they had been living like roommates for months beforehand, and that it had been clear for a long time that things weren't going to work out. Saying that out loud wouldn't exactly help her case.

The pills were mocking her.

With a sigh, Hermione stood up and dropped her bowl in the sink, filling up a glass of water while she was there.

She sat back down. "Cheers, I guess."

The pill slid down her throat obediently, and she sighed, walking dejectedly to her bedroom, not at all sure what she was going to dream about tonight.

"Please just let it be a bathtub full of rum," she whispered as she slid between the sheets. "I can manage that, okay? A bathtub full of rum."


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing she noticed was how naked she was, which was to say  _completely_ , sitting on a stiff leather couch, her nipples perky from the chill.

The second thing she noticed was that she appeared to be in some sort of library. Endless rows of old books surrounded her, with big oak shelves reaching up into the high ceiling. It was a beautiful sight, but it didn't explain why she was bereft of clothing.

The last thing she noticed was the book on her lap.  _A Brief History of Time_.

She frowned at it.

"Yes, you're meant to read it," said a voice. She looked up. Draco was wearing dress pants again, but no jacket or tie… Just a dress shirt that was slightly undone, his hair tousled.

He looked gorgeous. Fucking arsehole.

His presence didn't surprise her this time, but it didn't scare her either. She wasn't entirely sure why that was. After all, this was certainly the kind of situation that real-life Hermione would usually be fighting to get out of. And yet…

"Read it?"

"Out loud," he nodded.

"Naked?"

"Of course," he smirked.

She frowned. Somewhere in her mind she knew she should object, but for a reason she couldn't pinpoint, that seemed like the wrong thing to do.

"I'm cold," she tried, still not sure why she wasn't running away.

"I'll take care of that. Start reading."

Her eyes narrowed. She had never much liked being bossed around. "What if I don't want to?"

The smirk dropped off his face. "Now, Granger."

She pursed her lips, and opened up the book. "Where should I start from?"

"Where ever you want, love."

Her head snapped up at the strange term of endearment, but he was busy rolling up his shirtsleeves, ignoring her.

"Okay," she said, confused, leafing through the book. Page 102. That would be fine. She scanned the text.

"This book is about outer space."

"Brightest witch of her age," he said, rolling his eyes. She glared in response, and cleared her throat.

"The nondecreasing behaviour of a black hole's area was very reminiscent of the behaviour of a physical quantity called entropy, which measures the degree….." Hermione looked up to see Draco staring at her, his eyes analyzing her body, his tongue sliding over his lower lip.

She shuddered, not unpleasantly, and continued, slightly distracted. "Uh, the degree of disorder of a system. It's a matter of common experience that…" A sound caused her to look up. He was undoing his fly. "What are you doing?" she asked, slightly alarmed.

"Keep reading."

"A… A common experience that disorder will tend to increase if things are left to themselves."

She looked up again. He had freed his cock, hard and long, just as she remembered, and was stroking it slowly with his hand, his bottom lip caught tightly between his teeth, still observing her. Her stomach flipped. Christ almighty, she should really start running at some point.

"Uh… Um… One can create order out of disorder but that requires expenditure of effort –  _Malfoy, what are you doing?_ "

"Hush, Granger."

Skipping ahead slightly, now feeling extremely flustered, Hermione began to read again. "A precise statement of this idea is known as the second law of thermodynamics. It states that the entropy of an isolated system always increases…" He began to walk towards her. "Uh, an isolated system… Uh…" He sat down beside her on the couch, stroking his cock a little faster, a smirk of amusement on his face at her obvious discomfort.

"Go on," he murmured, his cheeks flushing pink.

"When two systems are joined together, the entropy of the combined system is greater than the sum of the entropies of the individual systems," she choked out.

"Sit on my lap."

"What?"

"Sit on my lap. I'm going to fuck you silly, Granger."

She stared at him for a moment, observing the fact that he was still fully clothed, she was fully naked, and he wanted to shag her on the couch in some unknown library. In dreamland. Even now, she understood that this was a dream, in a foggy, confused manner.

Why wasn't she running away again?

"Like what you see, Granger?"

She blinked, realizing that she had been staring at his cock, and blushed with embarrassment. Why was she staring so intently anyway? Why wasn't she averting her eyes?

Because there was something disturbingly sexy about having someone jerk off to the sight of your naked body, that's why. The leather couch underneath her was slippery now. The reason was no mystery to her. She was becoming extremely aroused.

 _Damn_.

His hand pumped faster, and he groaned, stirring something dangerous in her stomach.

Perhaps being fucked silly was not a terrible idea after all.

She moved to put the book down, and Draco grabbed her wrist, shaking his head. "You're not done with that."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm always serious."

"But what am I to – "

"On my lap. Now."

He moved his hands to her waist and pulled her over so she was sitting on his thighs, facing away from him. The shelves of books loomed in front of her, his strong legs tensed underneath her.

She could feel her cunt pulsating as she clenched her muscles. Oh God, she did not want to run away from this.

"Put me in, Granger."

She obeyed, raising herself slightly and tipping his cock into her entrance, lowering back down slowly. Draco hissed into her back and licked the space between her shoulder blades, biting down lightly. His whole body trembled when she sat down completely, with him fully inside of her.

Just as they had done the night before, her eyes rolled back in her head.  _Holy. Fuck._  How was it possible for this to feel so good? Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she felt the sting of disappointment that this was all a dream.

"Start reading, princess."

His hands gripped her waist again, and he began to bounce her, his cock moving in and out of her pussy as small gasps escaped her lips.

"You can't…" she gasped.

"Expect me to read…" she gasped.

"When you're... You're…"

"Shagging your brains out? Try it, Granger."

With shaking hands, she tried to find her place.

"How…. How is it possible that a black hole appears to emit particles when we know that nothing can escape from within –  _Oh my God, Malfoy!_ "

"More," he urged against her back, kissing her skin as she writhed on top of his lap.

"They all confirm that a black hole ought to emit particles and radiation…" she whimpered, stopping briefly to cry out.

"As… As if it were a hot body with a temperature that depends only on…. Wait, I missed a part," she moaned. "Where was I? Fuck, maybe I'm on the wrong – "

Growling, Draco grabbed the book out of her hands and threw it across the room. Hermione cursed with relief. Flipping her onto her back, he began to drive into her pussy with a desperate look on his face.

"Granger," he whispered feverishly as he pounded her. "Granger, Granger, Granger. Fuck the book. Look what you do to me."

She was looking. He was flushed, rough, his hair in his eyes, a light sheen of sweat on his brow, his dress shirt hanging open. It was possible that he had never looked more handsome.

Deliriously aroused, she threaded her fingers through his hair as she let herself sink into the feeling. This was insane. This was insane, and she didn't want to wake up from it. When was the last time she had felt this turned on? This adored?

 _Never_.

Never? What an awful realization. So she'd found bliss in some medication-induced hallucination? What kind of cruel trick was this? Was this what the real Draco Malfoy was like? What about the real Hermione Granger? Why was this happening to her?

Her climax was building. It felt like a freight train hurtling towards a wall. Draco's body slapped against hers, making a sound that was so sexy she had to bite back a groan. Her thoughts were coming a mile a minute, confused and schizophrenic.

 _Fucking Malawi_. This was Malawi's fault!

No, wait, it was Ron's fault for leaving her. For making her want to run away to Malawi. For not loving her enough, or at least, not the way she needed to be loved.

Like this. She needed to be loved like this.  _Desperately_.

Merlin, they never even had a chance, did they? The love she had with Ron had been sweet and safe, but she had never felt consumed like this. Worshiped. Powerful. Vulnerable.

A tear rolled down her cheek and a sob escaped her lips. She hoped she could pass it off as a gasp, and buried her face in his neck.

"Why are you crying?" she heard Draco say, and she knew he was close to the end by his speed, and the muttered oaths he was repeating in between gasps of air.

"I don't want this to be a dream," she managed to sputter –  _oh, oh, oh, coming any second now_. "It's just a dream, Malfoy. It's a fucking –  _she sobbed_  – dream!"

"That's up to you, actually," he grunted, and then cut himself off with a strained cry of pleasure that met her own.

He slammed into her and she arched her back, digging her nails deep into his skin. He jerked against her body as she felt his warmth spill out inside of her, mixing with her own arousal, his sweat with hers. They panted against the sticky leather. Ragged breaths. Creaking furniture.

"What do you mean, it's up to me?"

He didn't answer at first, instead planting a soft kiss on her collarbone.

"Malfoy, what do you mean?"

He looked at her, a mysterious smirk tugging at his lips.

"Figure it out, brainiac. This is  _your_  bloody subconscious."

* * *

Hermione glared at the office coffee machine. Another coworker had brought it in and charmed it to function without electricity. She hadn't really cared until now, preferring tea over the stronger stuff any day. Truth be told, she had rather disliked coffee until this moment.

But suddenly she cared very much. She wanted a cup of coffee, nay, a  _pot_  of coffee, perhaps two, and she couldn't find the filters.

A growl made it through her clenched teeth. "Goddamn sodding…."

"Sleep badly again, I take it?"

Hermione shut her eyes and took what she hoped would be a calming breath.

"Hi Malfoy. And yes, I slept very badly."

She opened her eyes again to glare at the coffee machine, ignoring the fact that Draco, real life Draco, was hovering in her peripheral, attempting to talk to her. She was not going to look at him. She was not going to think about his hands, or his mouth, or his dick, or his eyes. She was going to find the bloody filters, and then she was going to make a list of things she would need to bring to Malawi. When she was done that, she planned to catalog all the nicknacks Ron had left at the flat so that he could remove them promptly.

"May I ask why you are glaring at that Muggle machine, Granger?" he said, the amusement clear in his voice. He sipped his tea daintily.

"I want to use it, and I can't find the filters," she grumbled, rummaging through the drawer again, determined not to make eye contact. "Palmer's hidden them from me. He must have known I needed them."

"You actually think Palmer hid the coffee filters from you?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Are you always this neurotic?"

"Well why else wouldn't I be able to find them?" she said, exasperated.

"I don't know… Perhaps he put them on the top shelf because he's tall, and didn't think his diminutive colleague would suddenly develop an interest in coffee?"

Against her better judgment, Hermione looked over. A smirking Draco Malfoy was holding out a filter, barely managing to conceal his laughter at her ridiculous behaviour.

Gods, he was handsome.

"Oh," she sighed, taking the filter with obvious embarrassment. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I know I'm acting a little – "

"Mental?"

She glared. "I just really haven't gotten much rest lately."

"No need to explain, Granger. I've always known you were an odd duck." He winked, probably to make sure she knew he was joking around, given her tendency towards paranoia.

"Takes one to know one," she said, relaxing a bit.

He chuckled. "You calling me odd?"

"No, I'm calling you a duck."

He gasped in mock offense.

"Come now, I've called you worse things," she smirked. Actually, this was starting to feel normal. Nice, even. Maybe she could manage this after all. He was handsome, yes, and he made her feel lightheaded, but it was all tied to some weird fantasy her brain had cobbled together to deal with malaria medication. It wasn't based in actual romantic attachment. It was chemical, and temporary. She just needed to remember that next time she was bouncing naked on his lap in a library.

"Ah, there's the Granger I know. I've been lost without our witty repartee, you know."

"The entire day and an hour you've been missing it?" she said, arching an eyebrow.

"Come on. When you work in law, every dull minute counts."

She chuckled. "Fine. You win this round, Malfoy."

"I'll be writing that down and framing it on my wall."

"Don't get used to it."

"Wouldn't dream of it. I know I can't compete. You're the brainiac, anyway."

Everything came screeching to a halt.

"Wh… What?"

"I said I wouldn't dream of it."

"After that."

"I can't compete?" he said, confused at her dumbfounded expression. "Or the brainiac thing?"

She stared at him with her mouth open, suddenly remembering with vivid clarity the feeling of his tongue dragging along her back, along her jaw, over her temple, and felt completely undone.  _Look what you do to me_. Merlin's beard, he was seeping into her very core. Whether or not she continued to blame the dreams, things were changing.

 _Fuck_.

Draco snapped the air in front of her face. "Granger? Is there a reason you suddenly look so freaked out?"

She shook her head anxiously. "No. Nope. Just remembered something I have to do."

"Make coffee?" he offered.

"Um, no," she said, hurrying out of the kitchen. "Hate the stuff, actually."

"Anyone told you you're really bloody weird, Granger?" he called out as she jogged down the hall, away from the small kitchen, trying to ignore her pounding heart.

* * *

"I've been doing some research on you," she said, eyeing the pills as she ignored her soggy bowl of nightly cereal. "It appears you really do cause some fairly extreme vivid dreams, which explains why all of this feels so real."

She picked up the bottle and frowned at it, deciding that under the circumstances, talking to her medication was hardly the strangest thing she had done lately. Why stop now?

"I know it's not real, logically speaking. The real Draco would never act like that. He'd never... He'd never do those things to me."  _Those amazing things._  "I know it's not real, okay?"

Silence.

"Just tell me this, though," she whispered. "Why him? Why sex? Why… Why good sex? Why am I dreaming about something I hadn't even bothered to think about before?"

The pills stayed quiet, as expected.

"It's confusing me," she said quietly. "It's making me feel things. I don't want to feel these things – it's enough just to get over Ron. This is really quite inconvenient."

Undoing the cap, she took out a single pill, and then washed it down with some water.

"Malawi had better be worth this nonsense," she grumbled to herself as she crawled into bed. "Just give me one night without Draco Malfoy, okay brain? Stop fixating."

She lay there nervously, her fingers toying with the spot on her collarbone where he had kissed her so gently in her dream. Just one night without him, and she would be sure these feelings weren't real. Strange feelings that were swimming in her stomach, fluttering in her chest, tickling her throat.

"Bathtub full of rum," she whispered to herself before drifting off.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione found herself in a large, circular bathtub full of hot water, and nearly shouted with relief. Just to be sure, she lowered her nose to the surface of the water and sniffed.

Wait... Jasmine bubble bath?

"Why in Merlin's name are you smelling the bathwater, Granger?"

She froze.

"Malfoy?"

"Is there someone else you have erotic dreams about? If so, I'd really like to know."

He was sitting only a foot or so away from her in the water, his arm draped casually over the edge, his bare torso glistening with steam. One of his eyebrows was raised, indicating that he was waiting for her to respond.

"No, I don't have erotic dreams about anyone else," she said, annoyed. "And for your information, I was smelling the water because…."

"Yes?"

"Um, because I was hoping it would be rum."

He looked puzzled. "I can get you  _actual_  rum if you're so eager to drink, you strange girl."

"No, not to drink! It's just that…"

"Just that?" In one smooth movement, he slid over and ran his fingers along her bare thigh underwater, nipping her ear lightly. Trying to stop her eyes from fluttering shut, she briefly considered shrugging his hand off, and then gave up. It felt too nice. Everything about him felt too nice. That was the problem.

"Yes?" he purred, sliding his fingers up her inner thigh, inching towards the prize.

"I was hoping to dream of something other than you."

The hurt on his face was immediate, and she winced, wishing she hadn't said anything.

"I see," he said, coldly, removing his hand.

"Don't take it badly – " she began to plead.

"How else am I supposed to take it? Christ, Granger."

"Look at it this way," she said, cupping his face and trying to get him to look her in the eye. He tried to pull away, but she held on tight. "You show up in my dreams, and I have no idea why. You… You do things to me, things that make me have feelings in real life. But Draco, this isn't real life at all. You're not  _like_  this in real life, or at least not around me. When I'm awake, the most we do is banter, so these dreams are throwing me for a loop. I've got no clue what's going on, and I'm really bloody confused about it, okay?"

He stared at her for a moment, and then broke out into a genuine smile. His face made her chest hurt. It was patently unfair for anyone to be that good looking.

"Really? You still haven't figured out why I'm in your dreams? You don't know why your subconscious keeps bringing me up?"

"Oh, and you know?" she said, back to being annoyed.

"Of course," he shrugged.

"Do tell."

"This is  _your brain_ , Granger. I shouldn't have to spell it out for you."

"Well  _my brain_  isn't exactly being clear, is it? Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Sit on the edge of the bath."

"Would you stop bossing me around?"

"Sit on the edge of the bath  _please_."

"I'm bloody naked."

"That's the  _point_  woman, for Merlin's sake."

"And then you'll tell me?"

"Fucking  _yes_."

With an exasperated sigh, she hoisted herself up onto edge, leaning back against the cold tile wall, leaving her naked body completely exposed to him. Steam rose off her skin as rivulets of water ran off her. She glared at him, unimpressed that he was withholding crucial information, while at the same time trying to hide her excitement about what he might do to her.

He looked at her approvingly, and glided in between her legs, stroking her opening softly with his finger. Somersaults jolted her stomach.  _Holy fuck_. How was this not bothering her? She was spread-eagled on the edge of a fucking bathtub. Where was her modesty? Did it disappear when she fell asleep?

"Well?" she said, trying not to let him off the hook. He ran his tongue along her slit and her hips bucked forward involuntarily. "Ma… Malfoy, I'm talking to you."

"Maybe you should try not talking for a while," he mumbled into her pussy, his tongue running the length of her slit again. "I know it's hard for you."

Biting back a moan, she fought for control.  _Gods_. Perhaps being awake was incredibly overrated. Could she just sleep all the time?

"You were going to tell me why I keep dreaming about you," she gasped. "Don't try and distract me!"

He made a humming sound that she felt all the way up into her ribs, and lapped at her, burying his face between her thighs.

"Mal – "

"Hush, Granger."

He dragged his tongue over her clit and she snapped her mouth shut.

He dragged his tongue over her clit again and she whimpered.

He continued in that manner for longer than she could keep track of, and her body began to flush pink, trembling and squirming and bucking and  _fuck fuck fuck_  what was he  _doing_  with his  _mouth?_ Wetness began to slide out of her faster and faster, and he met it with a pleased growl, picking up his speed.

"Malfoy," she bit out. "Tell me."

"Soon."

"Malfoy… I'm too close…" she gasped.

"Good," he said, his voice muffled. He lapped faster, harder, slipping fingers inside of her and pumping quickly.

"Mal –  _holy fucking_  – I'm going to - " He reached up and clapped his hand over her mouth as she detonated, releasing a broken cry into his palm and tightening her thighs around his head. It was all lights and dizziness, disoriented fantastical shots of pleasure ricocheting around her body. She writhed against his tongue, pushing back into the tile wall, letting the waves take her over. He hummed contentedly as she finished, and made one slow drag of his tongue all the way up her slippery centre as she shuddered and went limp.

She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, her lids half shut. He stayed between her thighs looking much too pleased with himself, licking his lips.

"Well?" she said hoarsely.

"Well?" he whispered, pulling himself up to touch his nose to hers.

"Explain it to me, Draco. Tell me why you won't leave my head."

He looked at her mouth, running his thumb across her lower lip, and then kissed her. He tasted salty, and she was surprised to find that she liked it.

"You're in love with me, of course," he said.

* * *

Hermione sat up, drenched with sweat and panting. "What?!" she shrieked into the dark. The digital clock blinked 3:04 a.m. in jarring red neon light.

On her bedside table sat the medication, and she grabbed it with a growl, throwing it against the wall. Pills exploded everywhere, raining down on the floor.

"Sod this sodding shite," she screamed, jumping out of bed and stomping around her room. _Oh no. No no no no no._ That was quite enough of the anti-malarials, thankyouverymuch. These dreams were getting downright  _ridiculous_. In love? In love with Draco Malfoy? _How do you figure, brain?_  An anxious laugh snuck out of her mouth, and she snapped it shut before the laugh turned into hysterics.

This was too close to home.

Perhaps she just needed to leave.

The suitcase she kept for Muggle travel was jammed in her closet, and she pulled it out roughly, unzipping it and throwing it on the bed. In went her knickers, her swimsuit, a few books, a towel. She was pacing now, muttering to herself, pulling open drawers at random. Old pictures of her and Ron were scattered in one of the dressers, and she began to cry, no longer sure what was upsetting her more… Moving on from Ron, or these mind-fuck dreams that haunted her waking life.

 _I can't love him. I barely know him_.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Perhaps it wasn't even remotely true. School history aside, they had been working together for over two years now, talking nearly every day for the same length of time. They got along well. Very well, even. When he had to take a rare sick day, she missed seeing him around. His funny barbs and snarky comments were a definite highlight in the unglamorous world of contracting. When she left for a week last year to go to a rare book convention, he complained for a month about how bored he had been, and jokingly forbade her from leaving again. Officially he was just another coworker, but he was slightly more than that, if she was being honest.

Still... Love?

"No," she said out loud, a little too harshly, chucking another few books into her luggage for good measure. "No. Not a chance." Placing her hands on her hips with a determined frown, she assessed the situation.

Well, she was nothing if not adaptable. The plan would have to change, that was all. Hermione grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment, sitting down abruptly on the floor to write. This particular note would be sent to her boss at the Ministry the second the ink was dry. He would have to be okay with it, because she wasn't giving him an option. No matter - he owed her more overtime than she could even count.

She knew where she had to go once the sun was up. Everything had to be ready by then.

* * *

"I'm sorry… I don't understand. You're going where?"

"The Bahamas," said Hermione. Her doctor tilted her head to show her confusion. "Change of plans," Hermione said hastily. "Just came in to make sure I didn't need to take anything before I left."

"And when did you say you are leaving?"

"Now. Well, the plane leaves in two hours."

"I see," said the doctor, visibly puzzled. "Well, luckily for you, your hepatitis and tetanus shots are all up to date, so you're fine to travel there."

"Excellent," beamed Hermione. She had actually chosen the destination because she knew she was safe, but it didn't hurt to be sure. "I'd also like to give these back to you. I won't be needing them." She put the malaria medication down on the table with an air of finality.

The doctor frowned. "Should I ask what's going on here, Hermione?"

"You could ask," she said, throwing her purse over her shoulder and opening the door to leave. "But to be honest, I couldn't really explain it anyway. Goodbye! I'll be gone for two weeks."

"Safe travels….?" said her doctor, but Hermione had already disappeared.

* * *

Hermione slid her toes into the burning hot sand for the millionth time since she arrived to the resort. She would never get tired of the feeling - it was pleasurable and painful all at once. The trick was to keep her feet covered until she couldn't take it anymore and then pull them out, cursing quietly to herself and letting her skin cool before repeating the process. It was a game that could hurt her if she didn't get the timing right.

Wasn't that just a fucking metaphor for everything.

She sighed, closing her book and looking out at the waves with a troubled expression. In some ways this vacation had been exactly what she needed, giving her perspective on her life, on Ron, on work... And on a few other things too.

The trouble with perspective is that it didn't always leave you with the easiest option. Sometimes it dropped you right in the middle of what you were avoiding and ordered you to fix it. Sometimes perspective was a vindictive arsehole that occasionally conspired with fate to make it all just a little bit harder. It was exposing the problems in her plans. It was poking at weaknesses in her armor. Not that she knew anything about  _that_.

Hermione stood up and grabbed her towel, heading back to her room with her book under her arm. There was no point in forcing it - she wasn't going to get any more reading done today, not after what she had found this morning. What began as a completely innocent shake of her suitcase to rid it of sand ended abruptly as a small white pill rolled out onto the floor. Apparently she had missed one when the bottle exploded against the wall in that tiny fit of rage.

"Shite," she had whispered, inspecting the little pill. Should she throw it out? Or... Or should she take it? Just to see? Just to see  _him_?

It had been a week and a half since she ran away from London, which meant she had three days of vacation left. Not a day had gone by where she didn't think about him. It was the truth, and it was scaring her. Not only that, but it was proving to be a rather giant problem, considering that she was going to be heading back to the office soon and she was in a  _worse_  predicament than before. She missed him, genuinely, and she didn't even have the benefit of the dreams anymore. She only had a strange nervous feeling in her stomach and an ache in her chest.

Worse, the real Draco had no idea what was going on. This was all in her bloody head.

Worse still, this pill was threatening to cock up all her careful avoidance. It gave her a tempting out: the option to have one more steamy night with dream Draco before marching back to reality. Frankly, the temptation was strong. Her feelings were a mess either way - at least with the pill, she had the likelihood of a mind-blowing orgasm before signing up for spinsterhood.

"It couldn't possibly make things worse than they already are," she whispered to herself, cradling the pill in her hand. "Right?"

Silence from the pill.

"I quite liked the library one."

The pill ignored her.

"Actually, who am I kidding... They were all very bloody nice."

She gulped it down before she had a chance to change her mind, and crawled into bed, quietly berating herself for actually being excited to fall asleep.

* * *

"Coward."

Hermione looked around. This wasn't right. She was in some sort of abandoned amusement park, and it was almost too dark to see. Where was his voice coming from?

"Coward," he said again, louder, and she could tell he was angry, moving somewhere in the shadows.

"Malfoy?" she said nervously, taking a few steps forward and then changing her mind, taking a few steps back. It was cold here, she realized, running her hands over her arms. Maybe this was a bad idea. "Malfoy, could you please come out?"

"Why bother?" came the voice. "You might just run away again."

She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, and realized how badly she had miscalculated. Not only was he angry, but he was hurt, too.

"Listen, I just needed some time to think," she called out, anxiously. "You sort of dropped a bombshell on me last time."

"Don't sugarcoat it. You chickened out." His voice was so close to her now, and she turned around quickly, hoping to see him before he disappeared again.

There he was, pacing. Beautiful, pale, black slacks and a black t-shirt, his jaw set firmly. Her stomach clenched.

"Draco," she pleaded. "You have to understand. We don't know each other that well - "

"That's rubbish!" he exploded. "That's rubbish and you know it. You're scared at how well you know me. You've been scared for years. Don't kid yourself, Granger. I see right through you."

Her cheeks flushed red, and she swallowed uncomfortably.  _Too close to home_. "Look," she said, trying to calm him down. "I'll admit that we get along well at work - "

"Well?" he sneered. "Granger, we complete each other's sentences. Name one other person you can do that with."

Her cheeks flushed an even deeper red. He was exposing things she didn't want to deal with right now, things she had buried quite effectively and preferred to keep hidden. "Fine," she said through clenched teeth, "we get along famously, okay? But you can hardly call our banter - "

"Banter?" he said, breaking out in a dry laugh. "Love, you're brilliant with books, but unbelievably useless at reading people. You can't even read yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she said, defensively.

"Have you seen me speak with anyone else at the office?"

"Of course I have!"

"And how would you describe my tone?"

"I don't know... Barely-concealed contempt?"

"Not bad," he nodded. "Now think back to our banter. You know  _normal people_  would call it? What most people at the office call it behind our backs?"

She blinked at him.

" _Flirting_ , Granger. We've been flirting for over two years straight and you're too blind to realize it."

"Now hold on - "

"We use every excuse we can to interact. Admit it. You think I didn't see what you were doing with that Brinks file? I know you spent three weekends and countless nights doing overtime just to get it done. It was my responsibility, and you did it anyway. You went so far out on a limb to help me that you nearly fell off the branch."

Hermione winced with embarrassment. He wasn't supposed to know about that.

"I see how you look at me," he said, his voice low. He stepped closer to her, his gaze so intense that she was faltering under it. "There's no way you can miss how I look at you."

She ducked her head, looking determinedly at the ground, feeling more and more humiliated, close to panic. This was going all wrong. She had gotten past this. She had moved beyond this  _years_  ago. Hadn't she?

"Admit it," he bit out. "Stop hiding from me, Granger."

"You're a figment of my imagination."

"I'm very goddamned real. I may not be the Draco Malfoy you work with when you're awake, but I am Draco Malfoy nonetheless. You know me this well, Granger. You know you do. Now tell me the truth."

She took a shaky breath, but refused to speak, pressing her lips together.

"Granger..." he said, his tone all warning.

"I panicked!" she screamed, suddenly. "I panicked, okay? We started working together, and for some reason we clicked, and I started having these crazy feelings..."

"And then?"

"And then I buried them, of course! I was with Ron for Christ's sake... I wasn't going to break up with him to take a chance with you! I didn't know if you were still the same boy you were in school... I didn't know if it was just a crush gone off rails... I didn't even know if you felt the same way... I buried everything!"

"Well that worked well for you," he said, sarcastically.

"Piss off," she said, angrily, tears springing to her eyes and running unceremoniously down her face. "How the fuck was I supposed to know it would just get stronger? I kept burying it deeper until I thought I was in the clear. I'm supposed to be past this. It's been _years_ , Draco,  _years_  since I let myself feel any of this. I couldn't risk it when I was with Ron, and I've been a mess since the breakup, okay? You want to hear the truth? Here it is: I fell for you, bloody well panicked, buried my feelings somewhat successfully, got dumped, decided to go to Malawi, and then my life exploded."

He exhaled slowly, seeming calmer now. Hermione, on the other hand, was a sobbing mess.

"These fucking dreams," she said, gulping in air. "I think they're trying to kill me."

"No," he said, moving her hair out of her eyes. "They're trying to show you something."

"I'm not ready to see it."

"I think you are."

She sniffed loudly and wiped her cheeks with her hand, looking up at him. He was smiling now.

"Why in God's name are you smiling at my misery?" she asked.

"Because you still haven't figured out the best part."

"Which is?" she said, dread building in her stomach.

He leaned in, quietly, and tilted her chin up, looking at her with his pale eyes. "I'm in love with you too, you silly bint."

Then he kissed her, softly, slowly, his tongue brushing hers, his hands caressing her face, her heart nearly melting out of her chest. She thought briefly that she might faint from the sheer surprise of it, but decided that fainting would reduce her snogging time, and was therefore an unacceptable option.  _Gods_ , but he was perfect. She could do this all day. All year. Maybe forever.

Jesus, she really  _was_  in love with him.

To her disappointment, he pulled away, gently brushing his thumbs over her cheeks.

"Oh," she said, dazed.

"Yes," he confirmed.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"I believe the question is: what do  _you_  do now."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm always serious."

"Fine... What do  _I_  do now?"

"Figure it out, brainiac," he smirked. "See you on the other side." With that, he turned and began to walk away.

"Draco?" she said, hardly believing her eyes. "You aren't seriously leaving me here!"

"I most certainly am, love."

"Draco!" she shouted, angry now. "Draco Abraxas Malfoy, you turn around right this instant! You can't tell me you love me and then just... Just leave!"

"See? You even know my middle name!" he shouted back, laughing. "Come on Hermione. You know what you have to do. Aren't Gryffindors supposed to be brave?"

"I resent that!" she yelled, furious and confused and still reeling from the feeling of his lips on hers. "I fought Voldemort, you arse!"

"That's not what I mean, you daft woman!"

"Then what do you mean?"

"For Merlin's sake," she heard him mutter. "And they call you the brightest witch of your age."

With a pop, he was gone.

Hermione let out an angry scream and stomped her feet in frustration.

"Prat!" she yelled into the darkness. "How dare you leave me like this!"

Silence from the park.

"Wanker!" she shouted, clenching her fists.

A crow squawked in the distance.

"Cockmonkey!" she finished, confused now, and making up insults.

"Ooh, good one," said a gentle, lumbering voice from behind her. Hermione froze, having forgotten that she was still in strange dreamland. Anything could happen here. She could realize she was in love with Draco Malfoy, for example, after years of pretending she wasn't. She could also get mauled by whatever strange creature was currently emerging from the darkness.

A triceratops walked up and stood next to her, calmly.

Hermione blinked.

"Well, he sure didn't mince words," said the dinosaur, pleasantly.

Hermione blinked again.

"Then again, you needed to be told. Anyone with half a brain could tell you were in denial. It's not a river in Egypt, you know. Get it? THE NILE? DENIAL?" The dinosaur chuckled to himself happily, snorting a bit, and then looked her in the eye.

"Sorry," he said apologetically. "I've always wanted to tell that one."

She tilted her head to the left. Something was very wrong with her mind.

"It's okay," she said. "Uh, Mister...?"

"My name is Ned."

"Of course it is."

They stood quietly next to one another, looking out over the amusement park. Ned chuckled to himself again.

"And you didn't even get any sex."

"Thanks for the reminder," she said, annoyed.

"All you wanted was a steamy roll in the - "

"That's quite enough."

"Just sayin'," said Ned. "Just sayin'."

* * *

Hermione walked determinedly down the hallway of cubicles, nodding amicably at her colleagues, but not stopping to chat. It was her first day back from vacation, and she had a mission to accomplish.

Her heels made no sound as they connected with the beige carpet, which matched the beige walls, which, shockingly, matched the beige ceiling. It was a hideous office, but the colour didn't bother her today. Normally it reminded her of baby vomit and bad Muggle talk shows, but right now this handy beige carpet gave her the advantage of stealth.

Coming to a halt at the end of the row, Hermione observed the cleanest desk on the entire floor. Everything on it was perfectly organized, the quills coordinated by colour and shape, the papers immaculately stacked.

She knew he was like this, of course. Completely, ridiculously anal about his things. She squeezed her eyes shut. Now was not the time to think about anal  _anything_.

"Malfoy," she said to the blond head bowed feverishly over a complicated-looking document. He jumped, looking up at her with surprise, and she caught the millisecond of happiness on his face before he caught himself and schooled it into an annoyed frown.

"Granger," he said, coolly. "I see you've decided to return."

"I have."

"Missed me terribly, I assume, even though you couldn't even be bothered to say goodbye, let alone tell me you were leaving for vacation  _two weeks early_."

"Sorry about that," she said, guiltily. "Last-minute change in plans. I should have told you."

He shrugged, clearly hurt. "Whatever. I suppose I'm just your coworker after all. It's not like you owe me anything."

"Be that as it may, I still feel quite badly about it. I did miss you, of course."

"Good," he said, smirking. "As you should."

She almost sighed with relief at his sudden change in mood, but knew she wasn't going to get off that easily. There was a lecture coming. She would bet money on it.

"Do you know how bored I've been?" he said, starting into a lecture. "Two weeks, Granger? Were you trying to torture me? Palmer's been on my arse about all these horrid documents, the student has been messing up the filing system, and Mrs. Booth has been commenting on my... " He paused, embarrassed, leaning in conspiratorially with a whisper. "... On my bum, Granger. Talking about how nice it is. It's bloody creepy!"

"Well, maybe it is nice!" Hermione said, chuckling.

"Of course it is!" he said, affronted. "That doesn't mean I want to hear about it from someone old enough to be my grandmother! You see what happens when you're not around? I've been going mental!"

"Please accept my deepest apologies," she said in her most dramatic voice. "I brought you a gift, if it's any consolation."

"Really?" he said, perking up. "What is it?"

"It's a shell," she said, handing him a pretty pink conch from the gift shop at the resort. She had hoped to find him something on the beach itself, but it was terribly littered with beer cans and body parts of decimated crab. She figured that beach trash would not be the most popular thing to plop down on the desk of a neat freak.

He made a puzzled face. "You brought me a crustacean?"

"Oh, don't look so disappointed," she said. "There's something else, too."

He looked up expectantly.

"An invite to dinner."

The expectant look on his face melted off, replaced by confusion.

"Sorry?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Draco blinked. "Are you asking me on a..."

"A date," she nodded. "Are you interested?"

"Very much," he said, quickly, trying to regain his composure. "Yes. Yes, that would be fine."

"Lovely," she smiled. "We'll plan it out later. Drop by my desk, will you?"

"Yeah, yeah of course," he smiled, slightly flustered. "Uh, welcome back, Granger."

"Thanks," she said, trying to hold in her desire to run up and down the aisle screaming. "It's good to be here."

* * *

Draco threw Hermione down on the couch where she landed with a bounce, her jacket half off and her skirt askew, hair an obvious disaster.

"Holy fuck Granger, you drive me wild."

The date had gone well.

Advancing on her with a hungry look in his eye, Draco dropped his own jacket and began to remove his belt while Hermione shimmied out of her knickers, leaving her skirt on for good measure. He observed her actions approvingly, sitting down beside her and then pulling her on top of him in a straddle. She caught his lips in a fierce kiss, savouring his moan on her tongue. His palm came down hard on her bare arse and she whimpered at the pleasant sting, feeling his smirk against her mouth.

The date had gone very well.

She wasn't even sure why she was surprised at this point. They got along swimmingly, spending the evening in great conversation right up until the snogging had started. Neither of them wanted to say much of anything once that had begun.

He went to work on the buttons of her shirt, eventually getting frustrated and pulling the thing apart with a string of colourful swear words and the loud ripping of thread.

"Hey!" she panted as he pulled down her bra. "I liked that shirt!"

He took his mouth off her breast to remind her that he was a wizard, and that he would fix it after.

"Right," she mumbled fuzzily, before his lips captured her own and she was barely able to speak.

Barely.

"Stay the night," she murmured against his mouth, deciding to take the chance.

"Hmm?" he replied, too busy with his tongue to form actual words.

"Stay the night."

"What?" he said, pulling back to look at her, his cheeks flushed and his hair sticking up in all directions.

"You heard me," she said again, trying not to show how nervous she was about his response. This would be an awfully vulnerable time to be rejected.

"Granger," he said, slowly. "You know I'd love to, but..."

"But what?" she said, the disappointment stinging her chest. "You mean... You don't want to - "

"Of course I do," he said, looking at her seriously now. "But there's a problem."

"Which is?" she said, her stomach sinking. What could it be now? He didn't have a girlfriend... Did he?

"Well... To be honest... I fancy you," he said, touching his forehead to hers with a sigh. "A lot. More than you probably know. And I don't particularly want to jeopardize my chances at a second date by moving too fast on the first one. Believe me, I'm not happy to be saying this. I mean, I hope I haven't already blown it with my, uh, enthusiasm... But... Well..."

Relief flooded her, and she beamed at him. That was  _not_  the answer she was fearing.

"Draco," she said, tracing her finger along the seam of his shirt, from his collar down to his pants. She felt him take a sharp breath as she reached his top button. "I fancy you too. I fancy you so much, in fact, that I can promise you a second date, and a third date, and whatever else you want, right here and now. That won't change if you stay the night."

He was breathing heavily now, looking at her with hooded eyes. She got the button undone and went to work on his fly, keeping eye contact to test his response.

"Granger..." he said, his tone all warning, his fingers trailing up and down her arm. "You know if I stay here tonight, some very naughty things might happen."

She smiled sweetly.  _Might_  was such a quaint word. "Is that a promise, Draco?"

His eyes widened and he groaned as she got the fly down, sliding her hands inside. "Are you sure about this Granger?" he panted. "You'll have a terrible time getting rid of me if you decide I'm not what you want."

She looked at him, and could see the uncertainty behind his eyes. He didn't want to be rejected. He didn't want to fuck this up.

Well, good. Neither did she.

"I have never been more sure of what I wanted, Draco."

His uncertain look changed to a smirk that was so sexually charged she felt her cunt tighten.

"Why Granger," he murmured against her ear. "It seems you've got quite an animal inside of you. Tell me, love... Do you think I can make you growl?"

"Why Malfoy," she said, wrapping her hands around his hard cock as he dug his fingers into her thighs. "I do believe you could even make me roar."


End file.
